


Hello I Love You, Won't You Tell Me Your Name

by Remy_Etienne_Creed



Series: The Admirers of Charles Francis Xavier [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Disability, Erik Gonna Be Pissed, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I have no shame, M/M, Matt is not a happy bunny, Matt saves him, Mugging, Nausea, Physical Disability, Saint Charles of Westchester, Sickfic, Vomiting, Whump, help me I lied I can't stop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-30 20:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12660453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remy_Etienne_Creed/pseuds/Remy_Etienne_Creed
Summary: The Devil of Hell's Kitchen joins Charles'  ever expanding list of admirers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Meant this as a one shot but lol what up. I love these floofy handicapped babies together. But the real question: CAN I WRITE ANYTHING WITHOUT SICKFIC!?  
> I HAVE NO SELF CONTROL SEND HALP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt meets the strangest victim of a crime that could theoretically exist.

"Oh dear. Really now, there's no need for that. Look, I'll just give you the money you need, alright? I don't mind. It'll be a gift and you can just walk away from this. I understand it may be difficult but neither of us need to be getting worked up over this.", the young man said. The sound of a gun cocking then he continued, "Look, I have enough and I'll just give it to you. Happily. You don't need to wave that gun around. I know you don't want to.". He was remarkably calm for a man being held at gunpoint.

Matt was only a few blocks away from him but that might still make him too late. With the way situations like this went it could be all said and done in seconds. It wasn't too likely the young man would actually be killed but certainly hurt. He didn't sound very big and if it weren't for his voice Matt would have thought him to be elderly from the way he spoke. Hopefully, he had the sense not to try and fight back too much or a few injuries might turn into something more permanent. If nothing else he could always go after the assaliant, Matt thought hopping between rooftops. He prayed he wouldn't be too late.

"Shut the fuck up! Just! Just put your wallet in the bag!", the young man's attacker screamed, a middle aged man, one Matt already disliked. As if mugging wasn't low enough, he'd picked the young man because he knew he could overpower him, because it wasn't going to be a fair fight. Disgusting.

"Well, I'm afraid I can't give you the whole thing but you're more than welcome to the money in it.", the young man replied. Then rustling as he pulled bills from the wallet. "The wallet holds special significance, you see, it was made for me by a student. But here you are. This is 200 dollars. I wish I could give more but I'm afraid it's all I have on me at the moment.". His voice wasn't just calm it was...warm. And British. This had to be one of the strangest crimes Matt had witnessed in a few months.

There was a strangled yelp as the young man was hit by the butt of the attacker's gun. Matt was relieved to hear the chatty victim's voice again. "Ow! Well that was completely uncalled for."

And suddenly, mercifully, Matt was right on top of them. The young man was scared now, heartrate doubled. The situation had spun out of his control. He had been confident in his ability to talk the attacker down but he had failed. 

In an instant Matt had hopped down into the alley and had the attacker by the back of the neck. He forced him against the brick with a shove, shoulder pinning him. He grabbed his neck and gave another push, not stopping til he heard the attackers head hit the wall. 

"Please! Don't hurt him too badly! He didn't mean any harm, I promise you!", called the the young man from behind him. He was oddly compassionate for a man sprawled out on the ground. 

Matt fought the urge to roll his eyes. It was a concussion, barely enough to startle the attacker into submission. But he had to remember what this must look like. Matt punched the attacker in the face, knocking him out and dropped him, turning his attention to the young man instead. "He'll be fine.", Matt growled. He extended a hand out to help the young man up. He wasn't afraid of him. In fact, he wasn't afraid at all now that the gun was out of play.

The young man didn't take his hand, silent for a few beats then gasped, "You're blind.". There was no judgement there, just literal shock. 

Matt froze, instantly raking over every step he'd taken since he stepped into the alley. He hadn't done anything to give himself away. His hand was on the mark, he'd made sure of it. He was anxious now. Matt Murdock was blind but the Daredevil wasn't. But there was no use denying it either. The conviction in the man's voice was undeniable. He KNEW. And Matt needed to know how. Maybe the young man had spent a lot of time around the blind but it still wasn't acceptable. Obviously he was doing something wrong. "How did you know?", Matt hissed.

'You have your secrets, I have mine.', Matt heard in his head in the same warm, British voice.

"A telepath!", Matt said in awe. He shook his head with a laugh. "I didn't think people like you actually existed.", he admitted.

"Mutants?", the young man asked with what sounded like a smile. Matt nodded sheepishly. Then the young man sat up and took his hand but instead of getting up, he shook it. "Well then, on behalf of all of us, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Charles Xavier.", he laughed. 

Matt smiled. This evening had not gone as expected. "Nice to meet you too. I hope you understand I don't give out my name. But you can call me Daredevil.", he explained and tried to subtly pull the young man to his feet.

Charles didn't pick up the hint. "Then you might try thinking a tad less loudly, Matthew. Telepaths- and of course other mutants- are rare but there are more of us than one might think. You probably know one or two and would never find out.", Charles suggested with a smile. He smiled a lot. 

Matt was not smiling. "Well up until now I had always assumed I was safe in my own mind.", he replied coldly.

Charles dropped his hand. "And of course you are! I didn't mean to pry but sometimes it's hard NOT to hear things. It's not really a power but more of a condition. I can't turn it off, you know.", Charles sounded slightly hurt. Matt found that despite being the last person who appreciated having his privacy invaded he regretted being so harsh with him. 

"I'm sorry.", Matt said honestly. He could understand what it was like to have no choice but to hear. "I didn't mean to imply that you were.".

"That's kind of you to say but you wouldn't be the first to do so and you certainly won't be the last. It is something you might want to keep in mind though. I take it from your costume that your identity isn't something you want to have out in the open. I normally keep my shields up so I won't accidentally hear something someone wouldn't want to share with me. But tramautic events such as this one make it difficult even for me. And all the other telepaths I've meet are less experienced or considerate.", Charles said mildly but the damage was done.

Matt understood and gave up on damage control. He simply let it go. "Well, I have rounds to make.", he said in place of a goodbye.

"If you're about to say something like 'I am the night' I may have to hit you,", Charles commented, friendly tone right back in place. He was an excellent conversationalist; no wonder he was so confident he could talk down his attacker.

Matt, despite himself, was smiling again now. Charles was definitely top 5 favorite people he'd saved material. "What? You don't like Batman? Who doesn't like Batman?!", he shot back.

Charles laughed and he had one of the best laughs Matt had ever heard. "I'm not a fan of the eccentric rich boy trope. Hits far too close to home for my taste.".

"You know, admitting to being rich isn't exactly a good way to avoid a repeat performance of tonight.", Matt half joked but his concern was intentionally left evident. 

"Well, it's a bit too late to hide it from you, isn't it? If your hearing is as good as I think it must be to do what you do then you heard me willingly give him 200 dollars. It would seem the secrets out. And besides, how else would I get to meet handsome, debonaire men calling themselves by completely rational nicknames like Daredevil?", Charles smirked.

This time it was Matt who laughed. "I prefer to think of it as an alias. And how do you know I'm handsome? I'm wearing a mask.". 

"Oh, you're handsome. Trust me. I have a knack for beautiful men.", Charles argued matter-of-factly and Matt didn't need to see to be able to tell he had winked at him.

"I think this might be the first time someone I've rescued started flirting with me.", Matt joked.

"Well, it would be rude of me not to thank you somehow. I was in a bit of a tight spot there at the end. In fact, if you'd let me I'd like to buy a coffee or dinner for my hero sometime. Later, obviously, when you don't have any vigilanting to do.", Charles replied shamelessly. He hadn't denied the flirtation either. Charles was bold and Matt found it truly refreshing. So many people were intimidated by him after learning he was blind.

"Well,I'll think about it.", Matt found himself saying. He had surprised himself with that. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been on a real date. "Do you live around here?".

"Oh, thank goodness no! I'm from Westchester. So you don't have to worry about me giving away your identity to whoever it is you're keeping it from. I'm mercifully isolated from your big city drama. I only come in occasionally for work or errands. I'm a proffesor at Columbia.", Charles explained. 

Well, I'll see you around there then.",Matt answered, keeping his wording intentionally vague. He hadn't decided yet but he would admit to finding Charles entertaining if nothing else. "Stay safe, Charles Xavier.". Matt smiled before turning to hop up a fire escape. 

"Wait!", Charles called after him, voice self conscious in a way Matt wouldn't have associated with him. "Sorry to be a bother especially after all you've done for me already but if you could help me into my wheelchair I'd be much obliged."

Fuck. Fuck! He punched the brick twice hard. He was bleeding but he couldn't find it in him to care. He should've given Charles attacker much more than just a concussion. "You're disabled. That's why he wasn't afraid of you. He knocked you out of your wheelchair so you wouldn't be able to fight back. You're crippled. ", Matt realized voice eerily calm, fingers starting to twitch in anger. Charles had been purposely targeted because he wouldn't be able to put up any sort of fight. "He knew you?!", Matt guessed.

"Matthew, you're bleeding!", Charles worried.

"Answer me!", Matt demanded furiously.

Charles wasn't moved by his anger but after some thought did reply, "He's a janitor at Columbia. I won't give you his name because I don't want any legal action taken against him. I can't prevent you from taking his i.d, I suppose, but I assure you he had his reasons for what he did. I have no bad feelings towards him. In fact, I feel sorry for him. So I'm asking you for leniency.".

"He targeted you because it would be easy to steal from you, Charles! He would have taken advantage of your handicap!", Matt raged. He had just met Charles and was already convinced that he was the last person in the world who should have violence commited against him. Charles was soft and unbelievably kind.

Matt was sure Charles had shrugged. "He needed the money.", Charles said simply as if that explained everything.

Matt sputtered incoherently, fuming. He was a lawyer! How could he be expected to let someone get away with treating an innocent, CRIPPLED man so unfairly?! "How can you feel sorry for someone like that?! He'd have left you here to die!", Matt was nearly yelling now and quickly adjusted his volume. "There's being compassionate and then there's being stupid, Charles!".

Charles was tough as nails and still remained unphased by a masked man yelling at him. "So I've heard. I'm a telepath, Matthew. Don't you think I would know if he had any villanous intentions?", another sigh then," Look, this seems like it might be a long conversation and it's rather cold down here so if you don't mind?", Charles sighed. 

Matt had gotten so angry he'd forgotten. Without a word he scooped up Charles into his arms. He was light as air and Matt couldn't deny the tension that melted from his shoulders when Charles wrapped his arms around his neck. 

"Oh my, you're quiet strong aren't you?", Charles made a sound suspiciously close to a giggle before instructing, "It's right to the left of me.". Once Matt had placed him in the wheelchair, a bit saddened to have had to let the warm little professor go, Charles thanked him.

Instead of a "you're welcome" Matt grunted, "Well?! What do you have to say that will make me less likely to make sure he's behind bars?". 

Charles sighed again, in sadness instead of exsasperation now. "He just found out his daughter has cancer. It's really quiet tragic. He wanted money for chemotherapy for her but he didn't understand what the doctor said to him. It's terminal. He can get all the money he wants but there's no way to save her.", he almost sounded like he might be crying.

Matt's anger evaporated just like that. "But why did you give him the money if you knew it couldn't help?", he questioned. 

"It couldn't help HER.",Charles elaborated. "But it would have made a big difference to him. He's a grieving father, angry at the card his family has been dealt. She's only 16. A father is a little girl's hero. He had to do something.". Charles absolutely was crying now. Not sobbing but just slow, gentle tears. 

"You're crying.", Matt wondered aloud. "You're crying for him and he tried to rob you." Matt was awestruck.

"Excuse me.", Charles apologized needlessly. "It just really is so unfair. He was such a good man. He was the last person this should have happened to! And if he'd just asked me I would have given him as much as he wanted but instead it's already made him so desperate. He's not bad but he'll do bad things now, much worse than this. And all I can do to help him is give him 200 dollars.". He was crying, a bit harder now.

"You're incredible.", Matt realized. "You might be one of the most pure hearted people I've ever met.". He was astounded by Charles and suddenly he'd come to a decision. "Yes. I will go get dinner with you. Now. Or anytime you want." Matt needed to spend more time with the little professor. Being around him...it was like an ice pack on a bruise. It made everything easier to take. Matt wasn't ready to let go of that feeling yet.

Charles took a moment to wipe at his eyes before responding. "I'd really appreciate that, Matthew. You'll have to let me take a look at that hand first though. It's my only condition. And you'll probably want to change out of your superhero outfit, won't you? Come back with me to my office. It's only a few blocks from here. I'm afraid all my things would be much too small for you but my TA might have some spare clothes lying around that would fit you."

Matt nodded. "That would be great.", he said in relief, then, more seriously, "What do you want me to do with him? Keep in mind that if I do anything it will be taking him to jail.".

Charles huffed, "Well, I'd hardly be able to carry him myself, now would I?". Then with a sigh he continued, "I guess the best thing to do really would be to leave him here. It seems wrong but I know he doesn't have the money for the hospital. And I wouldn't know how to explain my paying for him without messing around in some people's minds."

Matt nodded stiffly, biting down the urge to reply that he wouldn't have let Charles pay for the man who had made him the victim of a felony. "That's settled then.", he grunted. He bent down to pick up Charles' money for him but was stopped as Charles caught his wrist. He gave him a questioning glance.

"Let him keep it. He'll need it.", Charles pleaded. Then removed his jacket and laid it over his would be robber. "There. That's all we can do I suppose. Now let's get out of this dreadful alley. It's been a long day and I'm completely fed up with brick.", Charles was far too cheerful but it was oddly soothing. 

Matt took the handles of Charles wheelchair and rolled him out, shaking his head in disbelief. 

"Oh! Um, alright, but you certainly don't have to do that Matthew. I am more than used to getting around on my own, you know. Besides, wouldn't it be suspicious for a man in a devil mask to be sauntering down the street this far away from October?",Charles discouraged. 

Matt nodded and took off his mask. "Surely you can't have any objections now.", he laughed.

"A blind man pushing someone in a wheelchair might be even worse.", Charles snorted, tone teasing and again bordering on flirtatious.

"I think I can chance it just this once.", Matt teased right back, pushing the wheelchair much more easily now that they were out of the alley and back on the sidewalk.

"I was right you know.", Charles chirped, looking up at Matt from the sound of his voice.

"Yeah?", Matt said, smile back in place.

"You ARE handsome.", Charles remarked triumphantly. "I'm never wrong about a good looking man."

"Well, thank you, Charles. I wouldn't know but I'll take your word for it.", Matt smiled.

"Yes you do.", Charles taunted.

"I beg your pardon?", Matt asked, a bit lost. 

"Yes, you do know you're handsome. Even if you don't know what you look like you know that you are. How else would you get all the women that you do?", Charles chuckled. "But it's alright. You don't know just how handsome though so you're perfectly fine. I could show you but I wouldn't want to ruin that adorable humble streak of yours. It's very attractive.".

Matt laughed nervously. He hadn't blushed in years. "There really is no getting past you is there?", he said before realizing what Charles had just implied. "Wait...you can show me?!". If Charles were telling him the truth...that would be incredible but Matt couldn't let himself get his hopes up.

"Yes, of course I will, if that's what you want. What right do I have to deny you the chance to see yourself? ", Charles responded automatically. 

"No, not myself. I...I'm fine not knowing but...would you show me what you look like?", Charles nodded.

"If...if that's really what you want.", Charles stammered over his words awkwardly. It was adorable on such a confident person where on Matt it was just awkward. He smiled at Charles encouragingingly and it seemed to give him something he needed. "Do you want to see me as I see myself or as someone else sees me?", he asked tone a bit more assured.

"You.", Matt responded automatically. "I want to see you the way you do.". It shocked him how much he meant it, how comfortable he already was with Charles.

Charles sighed, self assurance gone just like that. "Of course you would choose that one, wouldn't you? Can't take someone else's word for it, hmm?". He was trying to be light hearted but it came across as insecure all the same.

Matt picked up on Charles's hesitancy pretty quickly. "You don't have to if you don't want to.", he backtracked. He was worried he'd chosen incorrectly. Charles was uncomfortable showing him this. Maybe he'd never even shown anyone this. And why would he have? "I'm sorry if that was too personal.", Matt apologized. He could have kicked himself. He of all people knew how important, how intimate, the way a person saw themselves was. It was why he had declined Charles' offer to see himself. That vision he had of himself no matter how obviously far off base, was too important to Matt to be tainted by the reality. 

"No!", Charles yelped then gave an awkward cough when he realized how loud he'd been. His volume was back under his control when he spoke again, "No, it's not that. I'll show you. I want to.". He laughed nervously. "You saved my life tonight, Matthew, or at least saved me from bodily harm. I think it's safe to say we have a personal connection now. It's just...I've never done this before. I share my memories a great deal but they're always more than just me.", he explained.

Charles was chewing at his lip worriedly and Matt felt bad for even suggesting it. "You really don't-", he began before Charles cut him off.

"Are you sure you want just me?", he quivered. 

"Absolutely.", Matt put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

Charles took a deep breath, trying to gather his confidence. From the shaking in his tone it hadn't worked. "Okay then. Let's stop and pull over to the side a bit here. You won't be able to do this while walking.".

Matt didn't argue and tucked them as far out of sight as he could, behind a payphone, under the awning of a bodega.

Charles voice was probably the quietest Matt had heard it as he spoke. "Just...promise you won't judge me too harshly, will you? I know I'm not much to look at compared to you and those solid abs of yours. Keep in mind I haven't been able to excercise for close to seven years now. I mean there is only so much weights can do...", he babbled nervously.

Matt frowned at him. That was profoundly sad. A man as charming as Charles shouldn't have such a negative opinion of himself. Matt wondered if he had it before the wheelchair or not. For the first time in a while Matt sort of wished he could see so Charles could see how he looked to him. But Matt didn't know how to say any of those things right now- another rarity, Matt Murdock, lost for words. So Matt just nodded.

This time when Charles took a deep breath he seemed to be preparing himself. "It's sometimes easier if we're touching.", he sounded more sure of himself but his hand trembled as he reached for Matt's face. "Can I?", he asked nervously.

"Of course.", Matt acquiesced. He wondered who the hell had denied Charles of that in the past. He hoped spitefully that they knew how heavy of an impact they had for Charles to be so nervous with his telepathy. 

Charles reached out and gently rested his fingers against Matt's temple. "Brace yourself, Matthew. This will be overwhelming. The first few times always are. Don't be afraid to grab hold of my chair if you need to.", Charles instructed in a steady voice. "Just remember that I'll be there with you."

"I don't think I'll need to-", but then Charles was feeding him the memory and Matt's voice cut out, his eyes going wide. 

It was more than overwhelming. It was beautiful. And terrifying. And so much. Just so, SO much. Matt felt dizzy and staggered gracelessly, this time Charles saving him as he grabbed his shoulder and balanced him until he somehow managed to find his footing again. All of Matt's senses had faded out in less than a second. Matt hadn't experienced true silence since he was nine years old and suddenly there was nothing. Everything just...stopped as Charles pulled him into the memory. Matt's head was spinning and he put a hand to his head not to stop it but to focus it so he could have more. God, Matt was so desperate for more. The feeling was incredible, completely indescrible.

But the colors! The colors! Oh the colors were Matt's favorite part even though they made his head hurt a little. Matt was getting to see more colors than he could have even imagined. It was breathtaking as it was painful. A side effect of never seeing colors with his eyes is that over time, even in his memory, they were fading. His world was getting darker all the time. Some colors he had already forgotten about completely. But, God, here they all were. And everything sharper, clearer than he remembered it being even when he had vision. He knew tears were streaming down his cheeks but he couldn't care less. Everything was so complex and it broke him.

The memory itself though, was simple. Likely a beginner's memory for the psychically inexperienced. There was just sight to it. No sound, no touch, no other senses. Matt was glad for it. He didn't think he'd be able to handle it. He was astounded by Charles' control for a moment. He had to have isolated it just for Matt's benefit. There was nothing there that didn't need to be. But all the same, simple as it was, Charles had bound them together in something more personal and more intimate than anything Matt would ever experience again. His mind was full of so much about Charles in a flash. Things he could have never thought to ask in a million years were just well known facts to Matt now. He understood things Charles would never tell him verbally. And that made it all the more overwhelming. He did have to grab Charles' chair now.

In the memory, Charles was sitting in front of a mirror. (He'd managed to edit everything else out.) He was frowning. He wasn't happy with what he saw but then again, he rarely was. He was resigned though; this was the best he was going to get. The wheelchair looked much bigger than it was to Charles; Matt had been pushing it so he would know. But to Charles it was practically monumental. He hated it so damn much. More than anyone would ever know because Charles would never tell them. He'd gotten used to it-"to being a burden" came a thought that was not Matt's own- would let the others help him because he knew they needed to, but he would never not hate it. He looked so small in it. It made him look even more..."pathetic","ugly","broken", Charles memory supplied. Matt fought back against those words; he would experience this in his own way even if it was Charles' memory.

Charles' supposed flaws were all highlighted. He saw himself at least 20 pounds heavier than he actually was. Matt knew it was the case because when he'd picked Charles up it'd felt like picking up a teenage girl. The fingers at his temple were far too delicate to belong to the man Charles saw himself as. He was naturally small but Charles had no problem with that. Neither did Matt who found it adorable. If Charles could stand he would just barely reach Matt's shoulders. The few freckles on his skin- a pretty porcelain, the shade had been completely lost to Matt before now- were greatly ovexaggerated. 

Though they weren't as numerous as the flaws there were good things too. They were Charles favorite parts and they were almost all on his face. Charles didn't mind his face, in fact, sometimes he rather liked it- Charles' wording, not Matt's. There was just no other way Matt could put it; Charles was pretty. Incredibly so. Probably the prettiest person Matt had ever really seen and he had plenty of memories of girls as did any male. Charles trumped them all. And from what Matt understood of the way Charles saw himself he wasn't doing himself justice. He was likely far better looking than what Matt was seeing.

But, God, what Matt did see. He was beautiful, just beautiful. Charles had full, pouting, lips that were the best shade of red Matt had access to. His hair glinted cooper and bronze, falling in slight waves into his face. Someone important had told him that he should cut it and Charles was thinking about it. Matt hoped he wouldn't. It suited him. Charles thought so too but that important person's opinion overshadowed his own which angered Matt in a way he didn't understand but knew had come from his own mind. But the best, the best were those amazing eyes. Matt couldn't remember if all eyes were that bright and clear of a color but he doubted it. 

Matt would always treasure this. He couldn't thank Charles enough. But just as he let go of himself entirely, letting himself bleed into Charles, Matt felt him pulling away. The connection was fading. Matt had no idea if it was actually doing anything but he clung desperately to the memory. He tried to pull back, holding it as close to him as he could and being dragged with it when he still wouldn't let go.

'Matthew, you need to let go now. You can't hold on any longer. You need to give your mind a break.', Charles told him inside his head and Matt knew it was true. He really couldn't. He hadn't noticed it before so caught up in Charles and his...well his everything, but he was exhausted. It felt like he could barely stand. He had no idea how he was, actually. He didn't care a damn bit. He wanted to cling to this feeling forever. He didn't want to go back to the dark. He actually whimpered aloud when Charles gave it a sharp tug. 'Matthew, this won't be your last chance. But you need to let go now; you're hurting yourself.' Matt whined this time but let go because he just knew Charles was telling him the truth.

And suddenly, dizzingly, everything was back. He was back. And it was all so loud and grating and he was so damn raw. This time Charles couldn't grab him in time and he collapsed to his knees. 

Charles didn't seem surprised by the reaction and had his hands on Matt's shoulders in seconds, steadying him. Grounding him. "Well?", Charles asked softly, as softly as he could so it wouldn't hurt Matt. 

Matt appreciated it. His head was pounding and he really just wanted to curl up in a ball but instead he smiled. He smiled and laughed and looked up at Charles -or where he thought Charles was, there was too much...everything for him to know for sure- with what had to be reverence. He didn't bother to wipe at the tears. Matt had no dignity left to protect in front of Charles.

"Was it...was it good? Did you like it I mean? I'm so sorry if it was too much. I often forget what it's like...you see my family all are quite used to this sort of thing and have built up psychic tolerences-",he was babbling again, still impossibly softly though.

Matt cut him off. "You're beautiful!", he breathed. It was all he could manage to say. He felt along until he felt Charles' torso and threw his arms around him, pulling himself as close to Charles as he could get. He didn't even think to ask permission. He just needed to be close. "Thank you thank you thankyouthankyou...", Matt sobbed the words into his sweater in a litany until they bled together and Matt couldn't remember what they meant. 

Charles just let him too. "Of course, Matthew.". And his voice was almost warm enough to drive away the cold Matt was now far too painfully aware of. But only almost, Matt was shivering violently and he struggled to get even closer, practically half in Charles' lap now. Charles just stroked a hand through his hair as he repeated, "Of course." It felt so good Matt was practically purring. If he had to leave the memory then he would cling to Charles himself. 

But he had to let go practically the next second and leapt as far away from Charles as he could get, making an even bigger scraped up mess of his hands. He was shivering even harder cold sweat on his neck and temples. It was all too much. It was like being a little boy again, his senses suffocating him. He wanted to writhe in pain but wouldn't let himself. Matt wouldn't let himself feel that helpless ever again. He just stayed as still as he could but it wasn't helping when he was trembling so hard. The nausea and dizziness were winning and he just felt so weak and exhausted.

"Matthew!", Charles cried out in alarm. He wheeled himself as close as he could get to Matt and put his hand on his back. Matt tried to relax into it but just moaned in response instead. "Listen to me Matthew.", Charles instructed gently, voice impossibly kind, like he knew what was happening. He probably did, he could be in Matt's mind whenever he wanted. Matt didn't even care anymore. Hell, he was glad. "Do whatever you have to do to feel better. There's no one on the street right now. No one but me will see you, I promise.”

Charles was lying. "S-someone on the," he cut himself off trying desperately not to throw up, "other side...Matt whimpered

"I'm protecting you, Matthew. He can't see you or me right now, just a phone and a bodega. You're safe. I'm here with you.

Matt felt an unnatural wave of calm wash over him. He relaxed but it was doing nothing for the nausea. "M-Make it go away.", Matt begged.

"I can't. I'm so sorry.", He was being sincere. He might be sorrier than Matt was about it. "It's physiological, not mental so I can't do anything. If your body feels it needs to be sick I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do. But you can.", Charles soothed. "And I can make it easier.”

"Do it!", Matt practically yelled.

Then suddenly everything was gone again. Just like it had been before but with no memory attatched. 'There.', Charles told him just as soothing a presence in his mind as in reality where he was rubbing Matt's back. 'It's all still there but you can't feel it. Your senses, I mean. I'm afraid I can't do anything for the nausea but help in a bit more physical of a way. Do you want that, Matthew?'

Matt nodded and suddenly he was being pulled up by Charles who was deceptively strong for someone so small. He arranged Matt over his lap face just barely over the side of the wheelchair. Matt whimpered in fear of being seen this way. 'Hush now. It doesn't matter. I just want to make this as comfortable as possible for you, Matthew.', Matt heard in his mind. Charles buried one hand in his hair and brought the other to his lips. 'Open your mouth, darling.'. Charles said it like it was the most common thing in the world, like helping someone throw up was just another day for him.

All the same, Matt found he would much rather do this with him than without him. He nestled himself against Charles as close as he could. He hadn't had someone take care of him when he was sick since his dad. It made him angry at himself for showing weakness but at this point if Charles wanted to treat him like a child than why not let him? It felt good. Why fight it? So Matt let his lips fall open obediently, screwing his eyes shut. 

'Well done Matthew.' Charles praised and even though it was patronizing Matt hummed in approval. Charles slipped two fingers into Matt's mouth suddenly and he struggled not to bite but couldn’t help struggling against them with what energy he had left. "No, Matthew, you have to calm down or this will hurt far more than it has too.", Charles admonished gently. Another wave of calm overtook Matt's mind and he went limp. That wasn't fair at all.

Matt heard Charles' beautiful laughter in his head and that did genuinely calm him. 'No I suppose it wasn't fair of me, was it? But as they say, desperate times.'. Matt had no idea how Charles was so calm. If Matt were in his situation he would be a complete mess. 'Don't worry about that now. Right now all I want you to think about is my voice and what I'm saying. Can you do that for me , Matthew?' Matt nodded with a whimper just in case he didn't look pathetic enough. 

'Good. Thank you Matthew.'. Charles' fingers hadn't moved an inch and Matt was on edge wondering when it would happen. But Charles just kept stroking his hair and speaking gently to his mind. 'Now I need you to think of something. Anything. Something you like, a girlfriend, what you do for a living.’

Matt didn't think he could communicate back to Charles but he thought about Murdock and Nelson. Foggy and Karen. Their sign written on paper and taped to the door.

Charles just kept petting Matt's hair as he replied, 'Ah! A lawyer, I might have known. My daughter is a lawyer of sorts. Or at least that's what she's studying. She's more of an advocate. She's already petitioned a few courts. Of course I don't know the jargon. But I'm immensely proud of her all the same. Maybe you've heard of her? Her name is Jean Grey. '

Matt had no idea what Charles was doing chattering on like this. He whined. But he did know Jean Grey, well, he'd heard of her. And thought about her. She had to be at least 22 years old. There was no way Charles could have a daughter that old!

'Oh, you flatter me Matthew but I am actually 32.' Matt was shocked. 'Of course she's not actually mine. I suppose you could consider it through adoption though it's not legal. She has a set of perfectly nice parents though she has lived with me since she was 9 years old. She's a mutant as well, you see, and quiet a powerful one. At 9, already her powers were far beyond her control. She is a telekinetic and it just made sense for her to be with another psychic. Her parents weren't able to keep her with them. She's always been like my own though.'. Somewhere in the middle of his story, Charles had slipped his fingers to the back of Matt's throat. He didn't notice until suddenly he was gagging.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt is a sick little boy and Charles has gone full on Mommy mode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord have mercy on my soul. What was supposed to be a quick one shot has become over two chapters. Suddenly this is a story. Oh well. It's shameless caretaking porn. Such whump. Save yourselves. Save me. I'm not finishing editing the third chapter. It'll probably be finished tomorrow so I'll do it later.  
> Maybe. This has just burned a hole in my soul and I CAN'T STOP HeLp.

And then, Matt threw up. And it was just as bad even when Charles was shielding his mind from pain. He was crying. He knew it. But not like before, these were pitiful, sobbing tears and it just made it harder to breath. Which scared him. And he was stuck in a vicious cycle.

Charles hadn't managed to pull his fingers back in time and they ended up coated in it which made Matt feel even worse. Of course, Charles didn't say anything about it. He just quietly wiped them off on his sweater, making soft sympathetic noises despite knowing Matt couldn't hear them. 'Oh, Matthew, I'm so sorry, darling.', he cooed in Matt's mind. 'You shouldn't need me anymore at this point but if you do just think about it.’

Matt knew he meant help being sick but he was irrationally terrified that Charles might leave him alone. He couldn't take being alone right now. He wanted to cry and scream for Charles to stay even though he knew he wasn't going anywhere. All he could manage was to grab Charles' leg desperately as he coughed roughly, spitting to get rid of the string of salivia hanging from his lips.

'You think I could leave you like this? Never, darling. You're sick. I'm going to help you. I promise. I'll be by your side as long as you want me there.', Charles' mind reassured him. 

Matt whined and shifted himself so his face was buried in Charles shoulder. He was beyond caring what he looked like. He was...he was terrified. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen faced so much head on without fear. And yet Matthew Murdock was afraid of vomiting. And despite being in full uniform-minus his mask, buried somewhere beneath them- he had never felt less like Daredevil. 

No one liked throwing up but Matt felt he had the right to say it was worse for him than anyone else. It was a sensory overload in the worst way. So loud his head pounded and his ears rang from it. And the smell and taste...well, it was too awful to even think about. Losing control over his body and his senses all at once left Matt totally helpless. He felt every bit the blind man the world expected him to be. And it was horrifying. Everything spun out of his control and he was left shuddering and heaving and sobbing. But worst of all, wondering if he would be able to come back. 

The first time he'd thrown up after being blinded and losing his father he'd been alone in the orphanage. Not even Stick had been in his life yet. He'd woken up and promptly gotten sick all over his bed. He'd tried to get up and go to the hall bathroom but when he put his feet on the floor they stumbled and his knees had buckled. He'd spent hours there, alternating between retching and sobbing, curling up as tight as he could. He couldn't cry out for help, his own gagging had deafened him and his ears hurt. His entire body was pins and needles but it never let him go numb. He'd wanted to die. Matt had somehow even managed to drag himself over to the window and he was convinced if he'd managed to get it open he would have thrown himself out of it. He had been 10 years old.

Now at 27, even worse than the vomiting itself, were the hours after it Matt spent laying on the bathroom floor-if he was lucky enough- curled up and crying. He still wished he was dead, the only difference was now he was old enough not to try. He was still alone.

College had been a little better. Foggy had always been there, rubbing his back and just...taking away some of the helplessness of the moment. It was a little less traumatic with someone else there. He couldn't quite manage to wish for death as badly with Foggy there trying to make him laugh, even when his face hag been in a toilet too. The sting of the alcohol coming back up and temporarily leaving him without a sense of smell had been easier to bear. It was still awful. But Foggy wasn't.

But after that...in the real world...it had been brutal. Now Matt was alone in more than just a tiny room at an orphanage. He was alone in an apartment. The isolation had started to become the worst part and it was every bit as bad or worse as it had been when he was a little boy. He could have always called Foggy but he didn't let himself. Because Foggy would come. He'd drop everything and run to him. And Matt couldn't let either of them fall into that. He couldn't just go running to Foggy every time something bad happened. They were adults now. It wasn't fair to either of them to be as codependent as they were in college.

This was the first time in years that anyone had been there for Matt when he was sick and he just cracked. He clung to Charles, face against his neck despite his tears and running nose and the very real possibility he might throw up on him. Matt NEEDED this.

Charles heart broke for him. He looked at Matt and saw Scott, 12 years old and already terrified. Terrified of the entire world and worse still, himself. Charles knew he wouldn't be going home tonight. He shot Raven a quick mental message that he was okay, not to worry about him but that he wouldn't be coming home. He couldn't leave Matt alone tonight, possibly not tomorrow either.

Raven's mind responded to his presence mere seconds later. Even after all these years- and all their years apart- her mind was still the most familiar to him. He could reach her from states away being almost as familiar with her mind as his own. From here to Westchester was nothing, even for Raven. And after so many years together she was one of the few people he had ever met who could respond back in actual words. 'Ok.', she said, knowing from his tone the situation was too urgent to ask questions. If it weren't for Matt crying against him he might have smiled. His dutiful little sister. Raven was such a gem. 'But Erik.', she reminded him.

Charles rolled his eyes and despite being miles away he felt her amusement. She hadn't seen it but she knew him well enough to know he was doing it. Charles didn't have time to think about Erik right now and told her as much. 'Distract him.', he pleaded with her. Charles had a sick- his mind provided child before he could correct himself- on his hands. Fuck Erik and fuck his petty jealousy. 

He must have sent some of his disparages against Erik her way because she laughed in his mind and wooped. 'Yeah! Fuck Erik!’ then more seriously she replied, 'Can try.'

He was pulled out of his conversation with Raven before he could thank her as Matt started coughing violently, devolving into a coughing fit. 'Oh you poor thing.', he said again in Matt's mind. He wrapped the poor man up in his arms and held him close. He patted his back softly, the other hand rubbing Matt's stomach. Without thinking Charles pressed a kiss to his damp hair. Even after he'd done it he didn't realize how odd it had been for him to do so. It was something so automatic to Charles at this point. Coodle and coo over whoever was ill or in need of help. He didn't even think that the rules might be different with a grown man. 'I have you, sweetheart.'. 

It worked for a moment and Matt seemed to melt against him but then suddenly he was stiff and panicking. He didn't have to wonder why as Mart started gagging and pressed a hand tightly to his lips. Charles repositioned him again, leaving his face as far away from him as he could get it while still keeping his arms around him. He personally didn't really care if he was thrown up on- wouldn't be the first time or last, he played father to at least 20 children at any given time, after all-but he was afraid it might just kill Matthew if it happened. Charles pulled the hand covering his lips away gently. 'If it's going to happen Matthew, just let it, dear. It's better for you.'

Matt tried to focus on Charles as he gagged and retched up whatever he had in him. Charles' hand rubbed in circular motions against his back, the other hand rested warm and securing on his hip, thumb moving gently. It felt good. Charles was warm, every bit of him. But Matt couldn't breathe! His heart was hammering in his head. It just kept coming up! He was choking! He would suffocate! Matt panicked and started fighting against the arms around him. He had to breathe; he couldn't breathe! He was spasming so violently he almost got free of them. 

'Matthew!', Charles voice was loud now in his mind and a bit harsh. 'Stop it! You'll hurt yourself!'. When Matt wouldn't stop fighting him, now even trying to yank his mind away in his panic, Charles stepped in. Suddenly, it was like his mind wasn't even there. Or, it wasn't his. He was just looking at something that wasn't him. His entire body went slack despite him wanting it to fight. A second later he was breathing again in heavy desperate pants. And suddenly he was himself again. He didn't understand what had happened and was too happy to not be choking anymore to care.

'I'm so, so sorry I had to do that Matthew.', Charles was sorry. And for some reason, scared. His presence was flinching away, cowering as if it expected Matt to strike it. Again, Matt thought how horrible it was someone had made Charles so ashamed of himself. 'I was just so scared for you.', for the first time since the attacker had been neutralized Charles sounded something other than a calm content. 'You were having a panic attack and it certainly wasn't going to do your breathing any good. So I just took control to keep things from getting worse. You have my word I will never do that again without your explicit permission.'

Matt didn't care. Charles could have his mind if he wanted. He would probably take much better care of it. Matt hoped the feeling reached him but all he was capable of doing was flopping back bonelessly against Charles chest.

Seeing Matt's exhaustion Charles dropped it immediately to focus on comforting him again. He really was selfless. Matt could tell how uncomfortable that had made him. He needed reassurance but the second Matt's head was against his shoulder he shoved his feelings to the side. 'You've done so well, Matthew. It shouldn't last much longer, I promise.' Matt had no idea how Charles could possibly know such a thing but didn't really give a damn; he just nestled closer.

They stayed like that for awhile. Charles rubbing soft circles on his stomach and with a comforting hand buried in his hair. Eventually after enough nuzzling on Matt's part, Charles slipped the hand from his hair down to his cheek. Matt leaned into it and Charles stroked gently. He was still in Matt's mind but silent now, just a warm comforting presence enveloping his mind in what must be the mental equivalent of a hug. Even that was warm. Charles' mental presence was like sitting in front of a fireplace during winter and Matt did his best to lean into that too.

If people could have seen them Matt was sure they would be staring. Here he was, taller than Charles by at least a foot and bigger too, squeezing himself into fragile little Charles' lap. Limbs hanging over the side of the wheelchair. Charles laughed in Matt’s mind and wrapped it up in his presence more tightly. Matt could have fallen asleep like that, might have for a moment, before his stomach flipped uncomfortably. He could feel it coming again and moaned in pain. 

This time, though, he didn't even get the chance to start panicking. Charles was already counteracting it but true to his word left Matt in control of his mind. Instead so loudly that there wasn't enough room for any thoughts of Matt's own he started singing. It was off-key but it was so comforting that Matt thought of nothing but the song and it's words as he vomited again, barely missing Charles' arm this time. It was an interesting experience, Charles funneling the music from some memory through to him but providing his own voice.

'I see the moon, the moon sees me. Shining through the old oak tree. Please let the light that shines on me, shine on the one I love. Over the mountain, over the sea, that's where my heart is longing to be. Please let the light that shines on me, shine on the one I love.'

Charles was repeating the song when Matt coughed up stomach acid and finally some bile, at last finished. He collapsed back against Charles no less dizzy or nauseaous but at least with nothing left inside him to throw up anymore. Sensing that , Charles wrapped his arms around him more tightly, more securely. Matt weakly nuzzled his cheek against Charles’ neck. Matt had to be crushing him but he didn't say anything about it, just stroked Matt's hair instead.

Eventually Charles spoke to him again to keep the tired peace that had fallen over Matt from going away. 'Did you like it?', he asked Matt's mind, knowing he wouldn't get an answer. Charles was just trying to be soothing. It was working. 'I used to sing that to my little sister at night. She had nightmares and our mother wasn't around much. She never knew our father. So one day I went to the library with my journal and copied as many lallubies as I could find down to sing to her. I had to make up the tune to most of them so it likely sounded a bit strange but she seemed to enjoy them. I'm sure you can tell from my voice that we’re British so I tried to find as many old English ones as I could. You know, for authenticity. Songs family members might have sung to us. That one's Irish but I think it's close enough. It's pretty anyway.' Charles’ hands never stopped soothing him. 

After a few minutes and Matt still hadn't gotten sick again, Charles moved him off his lap to lean up against the window of the bodega. Matt was NOT happy about it and whined childishly. He grabbed at Charles and pulled him so hard he almost fell out of his wheelchair. 'No, Matthew.', Charles chided gently like Matt were the little boy he knew he was acting like. 'I'll be right back. I'm just going to dash into the bodega to get you some water.'

Matt whined stubbornly and tried again to pull Charles out of his wheelchair and into Matt's own lap this time. "No!", he managed to force out loud, voice hoarse and throat too raw to do much more than whisper. Charles seemed shocked to hear from him and Matt shamelessly took advantage of it. "Stay!" Then in a move he hadn't planned on taking Matt burst into tears. He couldn't help it. He just couldn't be alone right now. He squeezed Charles' wrist so hard that he winced making a pained sound. Matt would feel bad about that later. Now, he just tightened his grip even further. As weak and exhausted as Matt was he was still far stronger than Charles. He wouldn't be able to get out of the hold if he tried.

Even clearly in pain, Charles' voice in his head was calm and even as he explained, 'Matthew, you need some water. You're getting dehydrated.'. He spoke like one would to a child, way too good at that assertive but comforting tone, even if he had raised Jean. 'Look darling, I'll be with you the entire time in here.'. Charles tapped Matt's forehead gently. 'No one will be able to see you, I'll be protecting you even if I'm physically away for a moment.'

He was right and Matt knew it but he still made a pathetic sound in arguement. Charles stopped trying to argue rationally somehow understanding exactly when logic had stopped working on Matt. 'Shall I sing you another song?', and even so far gone Matt knew Charles was giving him a too cheerful smile. It was patronizing but Matt sheepishly nodded. He wouldn't have minded another song. Charles smile grew and Matt felt like a kid who had made his dad proud of him. 'That's my darling.' Charles ruffled his hair. 'I need you to be brave for a bit, okay?' When Matt didn't put up any further fight Charles nodded in approval. 

Matt let go of Charles' wrist and as much of an expert in comforting as he was Charles let himself rub at it for a second. Matt had actually hurt him. He felt an instant pang of regret. "Sorry...", he managed to cough.

Charles waved him off with a warm smile and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly before rolling away. Matt was scared but too tired to fight it anymore and just closed his eyes, leaning back heavily against the window. He took Charles' absence as a chance to try to get himself back under control. It wasn't working. But then Charles was singing and he relaxed and just tried to keep himself together enough to not pass out on the sidewalk. 

This one was sad but Charles sang it so well it was obviously a favorite. 'By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond. Where me and my true love will never meet again on the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond.' Matt liked his voice. It wasn't perfect or even close but it was clear and there was something lovely to it. Earnestness?

'Oh you take the high road and I'll take the low road and I'll be in Scotland before ye. For me and my true love will never meet again on the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond'

And then suddenly the song stopped and Charles was in front of him again now with a plastic bag in his lap. "Told you I'd be back before you could miss me.", Charles addressed him and Matt could hear again although Charles' voice was muffled. Still, it was too loud for him and Matt whimpered, putting his head in his hands trying to rub away the throbbing in his temples. 

Charles made a sympathetic sound and took Matt's hand in his giving it a gentle squeeze, as gentle with Matt as Matt hadn't been with him. Matt felt another pang of guilt and brought their hands to his cheek, rubbing it against Charles' hand. "I'm sorry darling, I know it hurts but I have to start giving you back your senses now." And something happened and for a split second his smile in Matt’s mind looked more like a grimace. But before Matt could even consider it, the smile was back. "But if I don't give them back to you bit by bit like this it'll hurt you more.". Charles took his hand back despite Matt's feeble attempt to keep it. He pulled the water bottle and a plastic packet from the bag, setting the cap and bag beside him in his achair. He opened the packet and placed three pills in Matt's hand and strangely took one himself. "Tylenol.", he explained. "I know how much your head is pounding, Matthew. I don't think it will be enough but for now at least it's something. Can you hold this?", Charles asked before letting Matt take the water bottle for himself.

Matt was coming back to himself a bit now, returning with his senses. He nodded and took the water bottle from Charles although his hand shook with its weight. Matt felt like absolutely everything had been sapped out of him. He was too tired to wonder about Charles taking one himself. He could taste the pills and the water faintly as he took them. Everything was still dull but even that was bordering on too much for him.

"Drink as much as you can, darling. Slow, small sips.", Charles encouraged. "Looks like we'll have to raincheck that dinner, love. Let's get you home. I'm going to hail a cab.", he smiled when Matt nodded this time, probably happy to have him behaving more like an adult again. 

Despite that the second Charles had rolled away from him closer to the curb he was singing in Matt's head again. ''Twas there that we parted in yon shady glenn, on the steep, steep side of Ben Lomon. Where in deep purple hue the highland hills we view, and the moon coming out in the gloamin.'

Matt had closed his eyes because he just didn't have any energy left to keep them open. He must have fallen asleep because suddenly he was being shaken gently by Charles. He murmured something unintelligable, even to himself.

"Wake up, Matthew. We'll be home soon then you can go back to sleep if you want. Can you stand? I'll help you as much as I can but I need you to try, okay?". 

Matt nodded. Of course. Even if not, how would Charles be able to help him? It wasn't as easy as he had hoped it would be. He had to pull himself up using the pay phone then lean against it to catch his breath. Charles took his hand and encouraged him to lean against his wheelchair. Matt did and somehow a paraplegic managed to get a blind man to and into a car where Matt all but collapsed into the backseat, completely sapped of energy. He had absolutely no idea how Charles had managed to get himself and his wheelchair in the backseat so fast. The grace of God, he supposed. 

"Where do you live?", Charles asked him softly. 

Matt somehow managed to remember his address and whisper it to Charles before dipping out of conciousness. He had no idea how long he was out but felt the car moving. And knew that he didn't like it. He groaned, feeling carsick. His head was resting on Charles shoulder and he pressed his face as close as he could to Charles' neck, trying to focus on the soft, comforting smell of Charles' skin. It worked for a moment. Then his stomach lurched as they turned a corner. No, no, no, Matt couldn't take any more throwing up.

Charles seeing he was awake wrapped an arm around him in an attempt to ground him."There you are, Matthew .", he whispered. "I was worried about you. We're almost there. Do you feel sick again?". He spoke into Matt's hair, resting his cheek against Matt's head. 

Matt grunted and wrapped his arms around his sore stomach. He chanced opening his mouth because he'd worried Charles. "Yes.", he whispered back.

Charles nodded and put a plastic bag in Matt's hand. He must have kept it expecting this to happen. Matt was jealous of Jean. She must have had the best childhood with a mom- Dad! he reminded himself- like Charles. "If you have to be sick, go ahead, darling. It won't bother anyone. I just want you to feel better.". Then he pressed another kiss to Matt's hair and this time he was aware enough to realize what had happened. Charles had just met him today but it didn't seem strange. Matt hoped he'd do it again. Charles arm tightened around his shoulders. 

"Woah woah woah, is he going to puke?!", the cab driver demanded. To Matt it felt like he was shouting and he covered his ears with a whimper.

"I'm taking care of it! It's not a problem.", Charles quickly shot back eager to turn his attention back to Matthew. "It's alright, love.", he said gently to him. He brought the hand not on Matt's shoulder to his stomach and began rubbing the soft circles that Matt had seemed to enjoy before. 

"Um, no! That's not alright! He can't puke in my cab!", he yelled. "Do not puke in my car!", he ordered over his shoulder to Matt. 

Matt shrunk against Charles' side. He really was trying his best not to. He felt Charles' hands stiffen against him. Charles was angry, he realized. He was angry for Matt. Matt was mostly surprised that Charles was even capable of anger, though. "Sir, I will be happy to pay for any cleaning costs but, again, I have this under control!", he snapped to the cab driver. "Have some bloody sympathy! He's ill!".

"That's not the point; I don't care if you pay I'll still be the one taking my time to get it cleaned!", the man argued. 

Matt's body decided to rebel at the exact moment and he heaved. Charles took the bag from his hands and held it underneath his chin for him. It was dry but still just as painful even with Charles trying to rub away the pain furiously. It was worse on his throat now trying to throw up but bringing nothing up.

He did throw up the water and pills he'd managed to get down when the driver suddenly slammed on the breaks. "Get out!", he barked at them. 

Matt whimpered and buried his face against Charles' sweater in shame. "'m sorry, Charles.", he mumbled. He just couldn't help it. His stomach had all but come up his throat.

Charles hand was carding through his hair again but it was stiff. "Shhh, love, you've done nothing wrong.", he murmured to him then placed his hands over Matt's ears. Oh. He was going to yell. Was Charles even capable of that?. "THAT'S FUCKING IT! I GAVE YOU A CHANCE BUT YOU HAD TO BE A BLOODY BASTARD ABOUT IT!", Charles shouted. 

Surprisingly, Charles was very capable of it. Even more surprisingly, though, for the first time since Matt had met him Charles' presence was completely gone from his mind. He didn't like it and whimpered. To make up for it Charles gently laid Matt down so his head was in Charles' lap. Matt did like that and hummed happily. "Now drive!", Charles barked to the man. Oh. Charles had taken the driver's mind then. Matt couldn't help but sneer a bit. Having a mutant friend was nice, he decided. 

Charles hand in his hair was gentle again as it combed through it. He continued the song aloud in a whisper skipping what must have been the chorus. "The wee birdies sing and the wildflowers spring. And in sunshine the water lie sleeping. But the broken heart nae ken second spring again but the waefu may cease their greiving.". He started humming the chorus and Matt must have fallen asleep because suddenly they were parked and Charles was giving orders to the driver. "Help us out.", he commanded.

And suddenly Matt was being taken from Charles and carried the way Matt had carried him earlier that night. "Charles...", he whined. He didn't want this man to touch him. It didn't occur to him that he was calling out for someone who was practically just as much of a stranger to him. 

He heard Charles wheeling after them, struggling to keep up. "Slower.", Charles demanded and suddenly he had Matt's hand again. "Just a bit longer.

Matt must have blacked out because he couldn't remember getting in the elevator but they must have been at his door because he was standing-well, leaning against Charles. And Charles was speaking harshly but softly to their driver. "Go. Forget about this building. Forget him. Forget me. Most importantly realize what a horrid person you are. Now get out of here and work on that.". And it must have been as scary to see as it sounded because the footsteps away from them were practically running. 

As soon as they were alone Charles wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him. "You did it Matthew. You're home.", Charles cooed as he opened the door. Matt had no idea how, but it was unlocked because he hadn't even touched it.


End file.
